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His captors began talking about the situation at the Mexican border and Bob drank in every word they said. It was just now that he began to realize what depth of feeling there was about the way the situation was being handled and to what lengths the ranchers and cattlemen would go to force the United States to make war on the other country. Wesley and Harper undoubtedly were “bad men,” but Bob was convinced by their talk that they had started on this particular piece of villainy for reasons which they thought were right. Probably when the thing began, they never planned anything worse than a strike among the Mexicans in order to delay for a year or two longer the flooding of the rangeland. Then had come the chance to induce the Mexicans to commit worse crimes in order to strengthen the feeling against Mexico and thus bring on war. Holman, the boss of these men and Bob’s host, had said that he wanted to move his stock to his ranch in Mexico when the dam was finished—but it would be foolish to do that while the country was still so unsettled. Presumably, there were a lot of men in the same fix as Holman, and these, naturally, wanted the United States to step in and make the unsettled country peaceful., Julia, at length, retired to her chamber, but the sorrow which occupied her mind withheld the blessings of sleep. Distracted and restless she arose, and gently opened the window of her apartment. The night was still, and not a breath disturbed the surface of the waters. The moon shed a mild radiance over the waves, which in gentle undulations flowed upon the sands. The scene insensibly tranquilized her spirits. A tender and pleasing melancholy diffused itself over her mind; and as she mused, she heard the dashing of distant oars. Presently she perceived upon the light surface of the sea a small boat. The sound of the oars ceased, and a solemn strain of harmony (such as fancy wafts from the abodes of the blessed) stole upon the silence of night. A chorus of voices now swelled upon the air, and died away at a distance. In the strain Julia recollected the midnight hymn to the virgin, and holy enthusiasm filled her heart. The chorus was repeated, accompanied by a solemn striking of oars. A sigh of exstacy stole from her bosom. Silence returned. The divine melody she had heard calmed the tumult of her mind, and she sunk in sweet repose., From the farther end of the hall came the query: “Is he here? Is Johnny Blossom here?”.